


Monochromatic

by Jakathine (orphan_account)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Character Death, M/M, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-07
Updated: 2014-05-07
Packaged: 2018-01-23 21:09:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1579622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Jakathine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>based on this post: http://red-orca.tumblr.com/post/84581130368/pleasegodletmelive-owynsama<br/>Due to a genetic mutation people only see in color when they meet their soulmate. However, if the soul mate is to pass away, so is the color gained. au where sherlock dies in Reichenbach</p>
            </blockquote>





	Monochromatic

As long as Sherlock had known he had only been able to envision the world in black and white. Not in any sort of philosophical way either but by the fault of genetics. He was uncertain how long the encoding mutation had been around but he did know it was annoying. Humans now had a sensory deprivation of sorts. Colors were only visible to those who found their soulmates. Anyone else was unfortunately subjected to a bland world filled with black, white, and hazy grey that would make the most cheerful sunrise miserable.

 

Sherlock had hoped for ages he would find his soulmate, not because he wanted love per say, but because he wanted the Sight. The world around him bustled with questions and answers buzzed directly beneath their surfaces. As it were to this slim monochrome vision it took extra time to deduce correctly facts and actions. Sherlock heaved an elaborate sigh and returned to his work, hoping his colleague Mike Stamford would hurry back from his afternoon walk in the park so he could lock the lab after his departure.

________________________________________________________

 

High School, college, medical training at St.Barts, Afghanistan—to John these places had dear memories but they were memories imprinted in black and white, as if drawn with graphite. Girlfriends had come and gone without a single shed of color appearing in his vision. He decided then maybe he was biologically more compatible with men so he took up dating them but to no avail. John’s world remained a horrendous bleary mess of black, white, and grey. When in Afghanistan he hoped perhaps a slim hope of having color brought into his life but he was disappointed once more. This disappointment only heightened when he was injured and was sent home under medical leave, a prominent limp now making him more of a socially awkward person than he already was. He was taking a forced stroll through the park when he walked past an old friend, Mike Stamford.

“John!” Mike called out to John, who after a deep breath turned to greet in turn.

The two had a conversation over coffee and as John bleakly looked at the grey sky Mike made an offhand comment about knowing needing a flat mate. John stole a side glance at Mike, asking why on earth someone would possibly want him as a flat mate. Mike grinned mysteriously.

“You’re the second person to tell me that.”

“Oh?” John inquired, surprise in his voice.

“Yeah. C’mon, maybe you two can agree on something.” Mike continued, getting up from the bench.

 

John shrugged and hoisted himself up, figuring he could at least find someone to split a good rent with. With being this age already and with the world still flat as it was he highly doubted he would have to deal with this person being his soul mate.

______________

 

“Right this way.” Mike remarked, stepping into the lab room and holding the door open.

As soon as John stepped through the doorway he recognized the familiar medical instruments around the room before his eyes focused on a tall man sitting behind the desk, his eyes trained on a microscope.  John was so transfixed on the person’s tall elegance he almost did not realize what was happening.

The white table seemed to be tinted green. The windows were letting in a faint yellowish light through the blinds, there were vials of red blood in the side refrigerator, and the microscope gave off a faint blue hue.

 John’s breath hitched in his throat, not believing what was happening until the man behind the microscope looked up and John met his eyes. For years John had studied books with descriptions of colors and pigments for a hope of an idea of what a world with color would be like but he could not have been prepared for what he saw.

Brilliant dazzling bluish green hued eyes met his.  _Aquamarine_ John thought as he recalled a book describing such a blend. The man straightened, those large eyes widening even more as he stood and crossed the room.

“Your eyes are green.” The man stated in a deep baritone voice before adding in a whisper, “This is the first time I have seen colors…”

John smiled slowly, recovering slightly from his surprise, “And yours are blue-green…”

“The name’s Sherlock Holmes and the address is 221b Baker Street.”  Sherlock said without hesitation, sticking a hand out formally.

John eyed Sherlock’s hand before shaking it firmly and pulling Sherlock into a tight hug.

 

Mike smirked to himself and left, his work being done.

__________________________________________________

 

A few years later- Reichenbach fall.

Sherlock’s lip quivered, “Goodbye, John…”

 _No_ John mouthed as he stared up at Sherlock, horror writ on his face as Sherlock stepped of the ledge, his Belstaff fluttering behind him as he descended. Pocketing his phone, he ran around the building to get to Sherlock as quickly as possible. Sudden pain shot through John’s head and he tripped onto the ground.

By the time he had gotten back to his feet a crowd of people had gathered at the sidewalk in front of Bart’s.

“No. No no no.” John muttered then louder stated, “Let me through. He’s my friend!”

Fighting through the crowd John latched onto Sherlock’s wrist and did not feel a pulse. Panicked he checked again but was pushed back. His sense of color was still there but it was weakening. The blues and greens were no longer as pure, the red of the blood was fading to black, and the faces around him were turning grayish.

A wave of panic ensued but John was kept from going towards Sherlock and he felt a small prickling sensation he knew meant an onslaught of a panic attack. He fell to the ground, the sounds of the people around him becoming muffled and his vision going blurry before winking out to entire blackness. What felt like hours later but could have only been minutes, John was able to stand again, shivers running down his spine and a bead of sweat trailing down his temple.

The world was once more in black and white. Sherlock was gone. John knelt and wept.


End file.
